


Are You Gonna Be a Good Girl?

by Sexxica



Series: Daddy Sherlock [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Age Play, Babygirl John, Daddy Kink, Daddy Sherlock, Established Relationship, Gay Sex, Genderplay, Hand Jobs, M/M, Panties, Socks, Spanking, schoolgirl outfit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 11:23:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sexxica/pseuds/Sexxica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock buys John a special new outfit for their favourite game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are You Gonna Be a Good Girl?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Birthday Present](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/31238) by LesMoules. 



> Translation into Russian available [here](http://ficbook.net/readfic/1743984) by [Billy-Bill](http://ficbook.net/authors/Billy-Bill)
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> [Follow me on Tumblr for sneak peaks and WIP updates!](http://sexxicawrites.tumblr.com/)
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John’s hands shook as he thumbed the fabric of the outfit he found laid out with precision and care on his bed.  It was a gift, an invitation, a contract that John understood perfectly well.  John and Sherlock had played this particular game before, and it was quickly becoming one of their favourites.

John licked his lips and began to undress.  He toed off his sensible shoes, pulled off his oatmeal jumper and white shirt, stripped off his trousers, pants, and socks.  

Sherlock had been meticulous, provided everything.  John pulled on the white knickers with frills around all the edges, buttoned up the white collared shirt with short, puffy sleeves, slipped on the navy blue pinafore dress which was only just long enough to cover him when standing.  An incredibly soft red jumper was next, then white knee socks.  Everything was finished off with a shiny black pair of mary jane shoes and a red headband with a bow that matched the jumper.

Everything fit John perfectly.  He looked in the mirror and thought he looked silly, small, childish, and an embarrassed blush spread across his cheeks almost as quickly as a rush of blood went straight to his groin.  He smoothed out his jumper and took a deep breath before heading downstairs.

His new shoes made distinct noises on the stairs, and John’s blush deepened, knowing that Sherlock would have already heard him coming.

It was true.  Sherlock crossed his legs in his slim black trousers, and put down the book he had been pretending to read since John got home.  His pulse quickened in anticipation of seeing John in the outfit he had spent weeks sourcing.  He knew that everything should fit John just right, make him into the perfect little girl.

John walked into the living room and Sherlock had to stifle a gasp as he raked his eyes up and down John’s small body dressed in the flawless school uniform.  John’s cheeks were bright pink, and after a quick, reassuring glance at Sherlock, his eyes remained fixed on the floor.

“Come here sweetie,” Sherlock said, his voice low and dripping with an uncharacteristic kindness reserved just for this.  “Let Daddy see your new outfit.”

John shuffled quietly over to the chair, eyes still firmly on the floor, hands clutching at the hem of his jumper.  “Turn around, let Daddy see all of you,” Sherlock said, and John obeyed, slowly turning on the spot for him, a flash of white knickers visible.  “Hmm, very nice,” Sherlock hummed and John’s blush deepened.

Sherlock rose from his chair, stood in front of John, put one hand on his waist and gently brushed the hair on John’s forehead with the other.  “You’re such a pretty girl”, Sherlock said in a rumbling near-whisper, and John looked up at him, eyes wide and wet lips parted slightly.

Sherlock loved John like this - shy and innocent, but innately corruptible and so willing to play the little ‘girl’.  Sherlock knew John loved it too, even loved the embarrassment that being dressed up and treated like a child caused him.

It was John who started this game after all, accidentally calling Sherlock ‘Daddy’ one time while Sherlock was buried deep inside him, triggering something in both of them.

Sherlock bent down to give John a chaste kiss on the lips, gripping his waist, enjoying the soft feel of the jumper he had chosen.  “Come on love, let’s go into Daddy’s room,” Sherlock said,  and gently lead John through the kitchen and into his room with a large hand on the small of John’s back.

Sherlock sat on the edge of the bed, pulling John onto his knee and running a hand down to cup and knead John’s arse through his tight, white knickers.  John squirmed, small gasping moans escaping his lips, making Sherlock hard.

Sherlock ran his hand up the soft jumper covering John’s chest, enjoying the feel of it and the trembling of John’s body beneath the fabric.  He kissed along John’s jaw, tenderly, lightly, and dropped his hand to John’s bare thigh, slowly running it up the smooth expanse of skin.

Sherlock stopped short, his thumb just barely touching the frills on John’s white knickers.  John let out a whine and wiggled on Sherlock’s knee.  Sherlock smiled and teasingly ran his thumb along the very inside of John’s thigh, just a small touch, not nearly enough.

John pouted, keened, blushed, squirmed, anything to try to get Sherlock to touch him more, even though he knew it wouldn’t be that easy; it was never that easy.

“What is it sweetie?” Sherlock asked, his thumb continueing it’s teasing.

“Ahh p-please.” John stuttered out.

“Please what, baby?” Sherlock replied.

“Touch me, please, Daddy.” John said, biting his lower lip, his eyes downcast.

“I’m already touching you.” Sherlock smirked, wanting to draw this game out, force John to say the words.

“Daddy!” John whined, high and nasally.

“Such a petulant little girl,” Sherlock tsked, “ask Daddy for what you want, or you’ll earn yourself a spanking.”

“Please Daddy,” John started out strong, but his voice quickly dropped to a low whisper. “I, I want you touch my …. my, cock.”

Sherlock let out an appreciative moan.  “You’re lucky Daddy spoils you,” he said, slipping his hand up to cup John’s hard cock through the thin knickers.  He gave it a light squeeze, enjoying John’s breathy moans and the way his hips jerked up into his palm.

“Ohh sweetie, already so hard, you know what that does to me.” Sherlock purred in John’s ear, languidly stroking his length.  “Lift up your skirt so Daddy can see.”

John blushed furiously, but reached down to lift up the hem of his skirt all the same, revealing his hard cock outlined and straining against his thin knickers, the head peeking out of the waistband and pressed up against his belly.  Sherlock groaned deep, his breath catching in his throat as he gave John’s cock a slow squeeze, watching precome bead on the tip.

John moaned as Sherlock toyed with him, pressed his mouth against John’s neck, nipped and licked as his thumb slicked over the head of John’s cock.  “So pretty, baby” Sherlock mumbled into John’s warm skin.

Sherlock slid his hand back up to John’s waist, pulling him up onto his feet as his other hand slipped into the back of his knickers starting to pull them down his thighs.

John curled his arm around Sherlock’s neck for support, taking the opportunity to latch onto a fistful of dark, luxurious curls.  John’s knees felt weak.

Sherlock kissed his cheek as he slid the frilly white knickers off John.  “You gonna be a good girl?” he asked, his breath hot on John’s cheek.

“Yes, Daddy.” John replied, his eyelids fluttering shut and his cock twitching.

Sherlock let John’s knickers fall down to his ankles, and John stepped out of them.  John’s freed cock tented up his short dress and Sherlock groaned, his own trousers uncomfortably tight.

Sherlock pulled John in for a kiss, closed mouthed at first, slow and teasing, then gently licking at John’s soft lips, prising them apart to accept Sherlock’s inquisitive tongue.  John clutched onto Sherlock’s hair, his other hand finding a handful of Sherlock’s white dress shirt to steady himself.

Sherlock’s long arms enclosed John’s small body in an embrace, one hand on John’s back, the other travelling down again to knead the bare flesh of John’s arse, long fingers quickly invading the divide, making John tremble and cling harder onto Sherlock’s shirt.

Sherlock smirked against John’s mouth, thoroughly enjoying the way John was clutching onto him, shaking and breathing in shallow gasps.  “Take off your jumper for me sweetie” Sherlock said, moving both his hands to John’s hips to keep him steady.

John reluctantly let go of Sherlock’s shirt and hair, taking solace in the large hands firmly wrapped around his hipbones.  He gripped the hem of the soft jumper and pulled it off over his head, careful not to knock his headband off in the process.  Sherlock smiled up at him approvingly.  

John put the jumper down on the bed and chewed his lower lip expectantly while Sherlock ran his hands up and down John’s sides.  Sherlock’s hands ventured lower onto John’s thighs, sliding back up again under John’s skirt to cup his arse, kneading his flesh and making John reach out to steady himself on Sherlock’s shoulders.

Sherlock smiled again, he loved to make John sway on his feet and have to rely on him for support.  One of Sherlock’s hands wandered around to the front of John’s body, pressed his cock into his belly with the fabric of his dress.  

John gasped as Sherlock splayed his fingers around his cock, pulling the fabric taut around it, creating a distinct outline of his hard prick in the navy blue material.  Sherlock moaned and stroked John between the vee of his fingers while John shuddered and clutched at Sherlock’s shoulders, his eyes screwed shut.

It was unbelievably arousing and incredibly obscene watching John like this, and it was only getting more so as Sherlock watched a spreading wet spot form on John’s dress.  Sherlock swallowed hard and took a steadying breath.

“Tsk. What am I to do with you?” Sherlock said, keeping John’s cock trapped with his fingers.  “You’ve gone and stained your new dress you naughty little thing.”  Sherlock shifted his hand, his thumb slowly rubbing the head of John’s cock through the fabric, only making the wet spot grow.

“Ahh … I’m … oh … I’m sorry Daddy.” John managed to stutter out between his stifled moans.

“You know what to do sweetie.” Sherlock said, his intonation serious, but his face betrayed his want.  John bit his lip, looked in Sherlock’s dark eyes - nearly all pupil now, and nodded once.

Sherlock took his hands off John and gracefully slipped off the bed to stand and watch John clamour on his hands and knees up onto the centre of the bed.  Sherlock groaned and adjusted himself in his trousers.

John blushed knowing that his bare arse was on full display as he quickly got into position - his forehead down on the bed, rear up in the air and knees a comfortable distance apart.  Sherlock stood and admired a moment, taking particular pleasure in John’s snow white knee socks and the lovely curve of his arse before climbing up on the bed himself.

Sherlock knelt next to John, one hand reassuringly firm on the small of John’s back while the other flipped up the hem of his dress and fondled his exposed flesh.

John was breathing quickly, his whole body tingling with anticipation, waiting for the inevitable pain that Sherlock would surely deliver.  How many would it be this time? Last time John had been particularly misbehaved, earning himself a bottom so sore that it was days before he could sit in comfort.

Sherlock raised his hand, bringing it swiftly down on John’s left cheek with a resounding slap.  John gasped and cried out, fisting the bedsheets and squirming while Sherlock smiled and gave a smack to the other cheek.  The bedroom was filled with the sound of Sherlock’s hand hitting John’s ever-reddening flesh.  It seemed to echo off the walls and reverberate up through John’s spine into his head, drowning out the sounds he was only half-sure he was making.

It was only ten.  Ten firm and resounding smacks that had John writhing on the sheets and Sherlock breathing heavily.  Sherlock’s hand lingered on John’s smarting arse after the last blow, gently caressing the flushed skin.  

“Have you learned your lesson?” Sherlock rumbled, his fingers almost absentmindedly stroking John.

“Yes, Daddy” John said, low and breathless.

“Good.  You know how much Daddy hates punishing his little girl.”  Sherlock couldn’t hold back a quick smirk at the obvious lie.  His fingers trailed down the cleft of John’s arse again until they lightly, teasingly brushed against his hole, making John shiver.

Sherlock reached over to the nightstand, locating the bottle of lube with ease.  He popped the cap and let the thick liquid drip and run down the crack of John’s arse to meet his fingers.  

“Ah it’s cold!” John whined, and Sherlock made no response other than to spread the lube around John’s hole, simultaneously coating his fingers.  Sherlock clicked the lid shut and lay the bottle tucked up against John’s knee sock covered shin.  

“Do you want it?” Sherlock asked, his fingers circling and lightly pressing against John’s puckered arsehole, now slick and slippery with the lube.

“Y-yes.” John moaned, rocking back against Sherlock’s fingers as he dug his own fists deeper into the sheets.

“Yes, what?” Sherlock insisted, his fingers briefly ceasing their action.

“Yes _please_ , Daddy” John moaned, equally frustrated and aroused by Sherlock’s insistence on playing by the rules.

“Mmm that’s better, sweetie.” Sherlock hummed, slowly sinking one long, slender finger up to the first knuckle inside of John’s only somewhat resisting hole.  John drew in a shuddering breath.

Slowly Sherlock worked first one, then two, then three of his thin, wet, fingers in and out of John, spreading him open inch by inch.  John showed his appreciation with a series of high, breathy moans that begged for more, and outright cries each time Sherlock brushed his prostate.

John was shaking, his face pressed into the bed and his thighs quivering as Sherlock fingered him.  He managed to gasp out just one word. “Please!”

Sherlock stopped, his fingers still buried inside of John.  “What was that, baby?”

“P-please. Please Daddy I need it” John shakily mumbled into the sheets, hips unintentionally rocking back into Sherlock’s hand.  

Sherlock slowly withdrew his fingers from John.  “Didn’t we already speak about what little girls get if they don’t ask for what they want?” Sherlock asked, his voice tinged with the power to either give John exactly what they both knew he wanted, or administer another spanking just for the torturous thrill of it.

John keened and took a breath, “please fuck me Daddy.  I-I need Daddy’s cock inside me.”

“Now isn’t that better?”  Sherlock smiled, unzipping his trousers and moving into position behind John.  He pushed his pants and trousers off just enough to free his stiff cock and quickly slicked himself up with lube.

Sherlock slowly guided himself into John with one hand, the other gripping one of John’s arse cheeks, fingers digging into his flesh, spreading him.  He let out a deep moan as he sank into John’s heat, his eyes shut and his head thrown back.  Once fully seated, he slumped over John’s back to whisper huskily in his ear, “such a good little girl.  So wet and tight for Daddy.”

Sherlock’s words sparked through John, making his cock twitch and drawing a moan from his lips, and another when Sherlock’s tongue licked a slow line up the edge of John’s ear.  

Sherlock drew himself back up and ran his hands down John’s clothed back, smoothing out his dress on the way so only a small portion of John’s arse was visible.  One lewd glimpse of bare skin where Sherlock watched himself slide slowly out, then glide swiftly back inside John’s tightness.  

Sherlock wrapped his hands around John’s hips, holding the fabric in place as he began to pick up the pace and adjust his angle until John cried out and his back arched up.  Sherlock hummed appreciatively, “good girl.  Such a good little girl for Daddy.”

John could barely control himself now - his hips bucked, he writhed and moaned and mumbled out “Daddy,” over and over again.  He needed to come so badly, wanted Sherlock to fuck him harder, stroke his leaking cock, anything to get him that much further.  

Sherlock got the message, and gripping John’s hips tightly, began to fuck him hard, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room.  Sherlock looked down at Johns small body all shrouded in the trappings of innocence, which were in stark contrast to the deeply vulgar noises he was making.  It was driving Sherlock all but mad and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.  

Sherlock reached around to grip John’s hard cock, nearly making him collapse on the bed, but Sherlock held him firmly in place.  Sherlock tried hard to stroke John’s cock in rhythm with his thrusts, but it was getting difficult to concentrate as he felt his own orgasm building.

Luckily John was already so close it didn’t take much before he was coming with a shout and a drawn out moan of “Daddy.”  Sherlock held out as long as he could, but John’s muscles were fluttering around him and he knew that John had likely soiled his dress even more when he came, the thought of which was intensely arousing.

Sherlock fisted the dark fabric as he drove himself, fast and hard, into John’s tight hole.  John was practically whimpering beneath him now, wrecked and sated, but still pushing back weakly against Sherlock’s thrusts, still wanting to please.

“Ahh, Daddy I want your cum inside me.”  John said, turning his head to look back at Sherlock, his curls starting to stick to his forehead.

That was it.  Sherlock groaned as his cock pulsed inside John, filling him up and making John call out once more.  It seemed like an age passed while Sherlock’s mind blanked entirely and everything was just the tight heat of John and the rolling waves of his own orgasm.

Eventually he pulled his softening cock from John and collapsed on his back on the bed next to him.  They were both breathing heavily, far too warm and generally a bit sticky, but Sherlock still wrapped his arm around John when he curled up next to him.

“That. Was. Amazing.” John grinned, and Sherlock let out a deep chuckle.

“Yes, it was, wasn’t it?”  Sherlock replied, pulling John in closer and kissing the top of his head.  “I’m glad you like your new outfit.”

“Thank you for that.  For this.” John said, the colour rising in his cheeks again.

“Hmm.  It was entirely my pleasure, John.”


End file.
